


Friday the Fourteenth: When Penguins Attack!

by Camelittle



Series: Thursday the Thirteenth [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Fluff, M/M, Pandas, Penguins, Pining Arthur, Possessive Behavior, Protective Arthur, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:18:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur takes Merlin to meet his adopted panda at London Zoo. As a surprise, he arranges an animal encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday the Fourteenth: When Penguins Attack!

**Author's Note:**

> This fluffy thing is all the fault of the gorgeous enablers on chat, especially Rowanbrandybuck, Wasp and Deadpan, who suggested "When Penguins Attack!", and I can't remember why.
> 
> Written as a sequel to "Thursday the Thirteenth", but can be read as a standalone.
> 
> With enormous thanks to Tari_Sue and dead-pendragon for the mega-swift beta job!
> 
> And to Merls, who drew this CUTE CUTE CUTE pic for it <3 <3 <3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/3351263

 

Arthur was an honourable man. He couldn’t help the fact that, when Merlin emerged from the bathroom with his hair awry, wearing only a towel covered in tiny pandas, it made his mouth feel dry and his throat constrict. But he liked to think that his innate strength of character prevented him from acting on his baser urges.

Because Merlin deserved to be wooed, not molested. Merlin was soft-hearted and clumsy. Merlin had a way with words that meant he could finish sentences for Arthur, when he had one of his inarticulate moments. Merlin lived to show kindness when presented with weaker creatures like pandas and puppies and such. Honestly, it was a wonder that his naive innocence had survived four years in London’s cynical and opportunistic wilderness. Merlin should have been born into an earlier, more idealistic age, not one where even the paper-boy wasn’t above trying to con him out of his small and dwindling living allowance.

Luckily for Merlin, he had Arthur to fend off those evil, scummy predators.

So Arthur fought down his primeval instinct to tackle Merlin to the floor and divest him of that coquettish towel, pandas and all, and instead put on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too wolfish.

“Bathroom free?” he said.

“Free as a bird!” said Merlin, his eyes disappearing into a maze of crinkles, and that elusive dimple appearing on one side of his chin.

Trying not to stare at the benighted dimple, which was just asking for Arthur’s thumb to press into it, and his tongue to explore its inviting depths, Arthur instead found his eyes enticed by the damp trail of dark hairs that led down into the knot in the towel, and beyond, and the soft contours beneath it. Dragging his gaze away, reluctantly, he looked at his watch and then up to Merlin’s face. He couldn’t help noticing that Merlin’s own line of sight had drifted south to where Arthur’s not unobvious erection was tenting the front of his pyjama trousers.

“Great, I’ll be out in ten,” Arthur said, trying not to let his voice sound too hoarse.

Merlin’s eyes, when they flicked back up to meet his, were round and dark and a knowing smile crept onto his face. “Fine…” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “Ahem. Er... Take your time, I mean… Er… unless you need some help?”

“I think that at the age of 27 I can wash myself, Merlin,” said Arthur, firmly, ignoring the way his dick twitched at this innocent offer.

Merlin smile looked a little forced, all of a sudden, and his tongue darted out as if to moisten his lips. “Right. Okay then. I’ll er… I’ll put the kettle on then,” he said.

“Yeah, I won’t be long.” Arthur couldn’t breathe. “Washing, I mean!” he added, voice cracking only a little, as he pressed open the bathroom door.

Yes, Arthur was an honourable man, but sometimes he had terribly dishonourable thoughts, such as the ones he was having now, about his flat mate’s mouth, and the long line of his pale, lean back, and how it would feel under his fingers where it flared out to form the fleshy curves of his arse.

Lathering himself up under the hot stream of water, he groaned as he imagined Merlin’s full, plush lips wrapped around his twitching cock. In his head, the expression in Merlin’s eyes was the one he’d just seen: knowing, with a hint of delighted playfulness. His soapy cock hardened at the thought. It was the work of only 30 seconds to strip it with two fingers until his abdominal muscles clenched and he jerked into his fist with a stream of muted grunts.

He leaned his head on the cold tiles, waiting for his pounding heart to calm and his legs to regain their strength.

*

By the time Arthur got out of the shower, Merlin had managed not only to boil the kettle without scalding himself, but also to prepare two steaming mugs of hot drink. The first, which was clearly hot chocolate – made, Arthur knew, from a precise recipe involving two heaped tablespoons of organic, fair trade chocolate – Merlin was nursing between both hands. Merlin had very long fingers, which Arthur definitely did not obsess about. Instead, he trained his eyes on the penguins that decorated the mug’s exterior. The second mug held a perfectly mixed, delicately scented Earl Grey tea, with one level teaspoon of sugar and a splash of milk. Etched onto the side of the cup was the powerful metaphysical message: “Dennis Bergkamp – LEGEND! Arsenal FC Est. 1886!”. The air was filled with the fragrance of bergamot mingled with the scent of chocolate. It smelt like home.

Sighing, contentedly, Arthur sat down opposite Merlin and inhaled his tea before sipping it. Ah! Perfect, as usual.

“Morgana’s new flatmate was nice, didn’t you think?” said Merlin, conversationally.

Arthur frowned. He hoped Merlin wasn’t attracted to this Mordred fellow. Mordred had seemed flighty and flirty, and had looked at Merlin in a fishy way. Mordred had _hurt_ Merlin! He wasn’t the sort of person that Merlin should be seeing at all. Merlin deserved someone steady and kind. Not that it was anything of Arthur’s business who Merlin dated, of course.

“He seemed okay,” Arthur said, not meaning it, but not wanting to upset Merlin if he was planning to ask the guy out.  

“I think he fancied you.” Merlin peered at Arthur over the top of his mug. “He was flirting with you. Weren’t you interested?”  

“What? _Me_?” Arthur hadn’t felt that vibe at all. He shrugged. “Definitely not my type.”

He could only see the top of Merlin’s face, but still Merlin managed to look pleased, for a second, and then crestfallen. “Not interested in brunets, then?” he said. “I thought you liked brunets.” He took a long swig of his hot chocolate.

Arthur seemed to remember saying something like that, a while back. “Well, I do,” he said, hastily, detecting a note of reprimand in Merlin’s voice. “I love brunets. That is to say, I like some of them,” he amended.  

“So what didn’t you like about Mordred, then? What makes him… not your type? Was it the blue eyes?” Merlin’s voice sounded sad. “Or the Welsh accent? Too pale? Too skinny?”

None of these characteristics would be a deal-breaker for Arthur. Taking a giant gulp of tea, to bide time, Arthur tried to work out how to navigate this minefield without either giving away his strong emotions about skinny, blue-eyed, Welsh dark-haired people in general, and one such person in particular, or saying something thoughtless and unkind. It was the sort of interpersonal dilemma that could give Arthur quite a nasty headache.

“It wasn’t anything physical,” Arthur said, at last, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just… you know.” He waved his hand around.

“Metaphysical?” Merlin smiled at him like the sun coming out. “You mean, you didn’t connect to him on a spiritual level?”

“That’s it!” Arthur beamed back. Merlin was so good at understanding what he meant. It was as if he had a high-bandwidth fibre-optic link with Arthur’s brain. “In a nutshell! You’re a genius, Merlin! The spiritual dimension…”

“… completely lacking!”

“That’s it! No meeting of minds!” He downed the rest of his tea and sprang to his feet, gathering the two empty mugs and placing them into the washing-up bowl. “Nearly ready to go?”

“Yup!” Merlin brandished a pair of brown paper bags. “Have sweeties, will travel. Look, I’ve put all the lemon and lime ones in your bag, and all the strawberry and blackcurrant ones in mine.”

“Good to see our blood sugar will be well under control.” Arthur rolled his eyes. Sometimes he worried about what Merlin’s insatiable sweet tooth would do to his scrawny frame.

“Aw, don’t be a Mr Grumpyguts! If you can’t eat sweeties at the zoo, when can you?”

Merlin could probably market his eyelashes as an offensive weapon, thought Arthur, as he found himself capitulating as usual.

*

Their home in Camden was a hop, skip and a jump from the zoo, so they managed to get there just before it opened. Being a cloudy Friday morning in February, the entrance was not crowded.

Merlin turned to him as they pressed through the entrance. He fizzed with excitement, sparkly-eyed and pink-cheeked. He looked so perfect, so earnest and open-hearted, that Arthur couldn’t look away, not even for a second.

“All right?” Arthur said, his pulse racing. He could not wait to see the look on Merlin’s face when he saw what else was in store for them.

“This is going to be brilliant, Arthur, isn’t it?” said Merlin, his accent getting more pronounced as it always did in times of high emotion. “Thank you so much for bringing me.”

Arthur smiled and, finding a treacherous hand sneaking out to touch Merlin’s face, adjusted its trajectory just in time to straighten the angle of Merlin’s “Jack of Numpties” baseball cap. “Come on,” he said, resisting the urge to grab Merlin’s hand and pull him along.

*

The newly-arrived panda at London Zoo, when she was first introduced to the capital last month, had been an instant hit with the English public. So, of course, the panda enclosure was the first place that Merlin wanted to go. They marched straight past “Gorilla Kingdom”, not even stopping to see the birds of prey.

When they arrived, Gwen-Gwen was sitting, legs outstretched, contentedly munching her way through a bamboo cane. She was ignoring the crowd of cooing onlookers, and looked happy to be there – but not as happy as Merlin, who had the most intense, wide-mouthed grin glazing his face that Arthur was dazzled, and had to look away for a moment. He’d love to see that rapt expression on Merlin’s face in an entirely different context, but, as Arthur reminded himself about ten times a day, molesting his flat-mate would be a dishonourable thing to do, so this would do just fine for now.

“Adorable,” breathed Merlin, turning to Arthur with shining eyes.

“Completely,” agreed Arthur, quite overcome.

They stayed there for a good half an hour, just watching Gwen-Gwen work her way through a large mound of greenery, before Merlin sighed. “She looks so lonely,” he said wistfully.

Arthur reached out, as if to draw Merlin in for a hug, stopped himself, and rubbed awkwardly at Merlin’s upper arm instead. “Come on, you soft-hearted idiot,” he said. “I’ve got a surprise lined up for you.”

He led Merlin past the pelicans and the butterfly house and paused at the milkshake blender shop, where he ordered Merlin a “Friday Feeling” with extra love hearts, and a “Golden Balls” for himself, and wondered if he was being too obvious.

“Where are we going?” said Merlin, licking a dab of whipped cream off the end of his nose before spooning another bit of creamy Crunchy Bar off the cone of froth. “Mmm! God! This is scrumptious!”

“Er.” Arthur watched Merlin’s plump lips close over the tiny plastic spatula, drawing it out, slowly, leaving tiny smeared creamy lines along it, his eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy. “What? Oh. Yeah! Erm, penguins.”

Merlin’s eyes sprang open. “Penguins! I adore penguins!”

“I guessed you might.” Arthur smiled. “You’ve got the whole black-and-white animal thing going. You know.”

“I suppose I have! Lead me to the zebras!”

“Wait. I have a thing for red animals,” Arthur replied. “I insist that we visit the orang-utan and the… erm…”

But Merlin’s tongue had snaked out and was ghosting round the top of the whipped-cream cone on his milkshake, and Arthur couldn’t think of any red animals for a second.

Feeling Merlin's expectant eyes trained on him, he eventually managed to croak out the word “foxes”.

Merlin smirked. “Right,” he said in a teasing voice, “because apparently foxes are terribly endangered, and therefore have to live in the zoo. And, not, you know, at the bottom of every single suburban garden in North London.” He scooped up a love heart with his tongue. It perched there for a second before being plunged into the depths of his mouth and devoured with a few swift crunches.

“Oi! Sarky!” To cover his confusion, Arthur shovelled a large dollop of sweet, creamy froth into his own mouth and bit down on a mouthful of mingled nut and chocolate. “God. That’s gorgeous.”

“Can I try a bit?”

“Be my guest.” Arthur proffered his cup, and Merlin helped himself to a generous ladleful of Arthur’s nuts. Although Arthur _tried_ not to think about that, nor the way that their eyes locked when Merlin licked his lips obscenely afterwards, he definitely failed.

“Delicious,” breathed Merlin.

Damn. It was bloody hard, being honourable, sometimes.

*

Arthur took an instant dislike to the zookeeper.

“Hi,” she said, simpering at Merlin like a bloody schoolgirl. “I’m Sefa, the penguin keeper. Looks like you’re the only person on the meet and greet, today.”

Arthur had only paid for Merlin to do the meet and greet, and not for himself. He was intending to watch and take photographs, but he was beginning to regret not being inside the enclosure, participating. Not through any particular desire to meet the penguins, but more because he had a horrible premonition that Merlin would somehow manage to balls it up. Merlin was a wonderful person, of course, in every way, but he did have an unerring knack for ballsing things up. Look at his ability to injure himself playing cribbage, for example. He really did need looking after.

Scowling at Sefa, Arthur crossed his arms, stationed himself as close as possible, and kept an eagle eye out for trouble. Meanwhile Sefa gave Merlin the low-down on the rules, telling him to stay in the meet-and-greet area and let the penguins approach him. She fluttered her eyelashes at Merlin all the while. Arthur did not like her at all.

“We’re going to be meeting our Humboldt Penguins, today,” she was saying, her head coyly on one side. “We also have a rockhopper, Binky, but Binky’s been off her food recently, so she probably won’t come into the meet and greet area. Our Humboldts, however, are very cheeky and do love to take selfies. Here comes one now! This is little Alice, isn’t she cute? Nearly as cute as you, sir!”

Arthur felt his scowl deepen.

“She’s so lovely,” said Merlin, kneeling down, and waiting for the penguin to waddle over. “Hey Alice!” When Alice nuzzled at Merlin, he looked up, with a dazzling smile that Arthur captured using the camera on his phone. “She’s so soft!”

Soft like Arthur’s heart, at that moment.

“She’s just moulted,” said Sefa. “She does feel soft, right now, doesn’t she? We have over 75 Humboldt penguins here at Penguin Beach…...”

Arthur let the spiel wash over him, and contented himself with watching Merlin’s interactions with the birds for a while.

A sudden commotion caught his attention over near the water. A large penguin, different from all the others, came barreling out of the pool, its hair tufting up in great spikes. The bird had angry-looking eyebrows and was squawking furiously as it waddled swiftly towards Merlin and Sefa.

“Now, now, Binky,” Sefa began, seeing the penguin approach, her voice rising with a note of alarm, “there’s no need to… Binky! No!”

Arthur could see where Binky was headed. There was a large bucket of herring, which Merlin had been using to feed the Humboldts. And Merlin was sitting between the vengeful-looking Binky and her bucket. It looked like Binky had finally regained her appetite, and to Arthur's alarm, if he didn't do anything, Merlin would be on the menu.

Swift action was required.

“Look out Merlin!” Arthur yelled, vaulting the enclosure fence and sprinting over to where Merlin, the slow-brained cabbage-head, was turning his head inquiringly towards the penguin-shaped missile, which was bearing down on him with her sharp beak and menacing-looking wings.

“Sir, take care!” said Sefa, backing away, the coward.

Without thought, Arthur scooped Merlin up in his arms and carried him bodily to safety well away from the bucket. As they watched, a still-squawking Binky attacked the bucket, upturning it with a clatter, and scattering herrings everywhere, before devouring one of the fish greedily.  

Merlin was shaking with laughter as he clutched on to Arthur’s shoulders. “My hero!” he said.

“It’s not funny, Merlin,” Arthur growled. “That penguin could have gouged a massive hole in your leg.”

Merlin nodded gravely. “Thank you for rescuing me, Arthur,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Er… Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you can put me down now.”

Realising he was still carrying his flatmate, Arthur coughed and set him back on his feet. “You’re heavier than you look,” he said lamely.

Merlin’s face was very close to his when he said, “I guess that makes me dense. But I’m still not as dense as you are, Mr Grumpyguts Frownyface.”

Arthur scowled. “What do you mean? I haven’t got a frowny face,” he said, trying to unscowl, and, finding that this action merely contorted his features, finally settling for a small forehead wrinkle. “I just think they need to sort out their health and safet—mmfff!”

This last sentence was interrupted in the best possible way, because, sighing, his breath gusting warmth past Arthur’s cool cheek, Merlin closed the remaining distance between them to brush Arthur’s lips softly with his own, reaching round the back of Arthur’s head to cradle his nape.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” Merlin said, shaking his head, “but no manner of hints seem to work, so I have decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Arthur stood stock still, rigid, shocked to his core, his mouth slightly open. “You have?”

It was only when Merlin went to pull away that he finally got his act together and stopped him, reaching round him to pull him in for a proper kiss at last.   

*

Arthur couldn’t say how the three of them got back to the tube station – him, Merlin, and their new “pet” panda, a giant plushy beast that was nearly as tall as Merlin and twice as wide, which Merlin had instantly christened “Gwen-Gwen”. His feet must have been involved, although they seemed to be gliding on clouds of euphoria, so he really couldn’t say for sure.

Something of his newfound happiness must have showed on his face, because their fellow bus passengers didn’t moan about Gwen-Gwen needing a seat all to herself at all. Instead, a pair of sweet-faced Japanese tourists giggled and took their picture. And then the short walk from the bus stop back to their flat must have happened, but he couldn’t remember much about it, other than that Merlin’s hand was firmly clutching his all the way.  

When the door closed behind them, Gwen-Gwen fell to the floor, forgotten.

They’d pick her up and mollycoddle her later, but for now they had other things to do. Like making up for lost time, and casting the remaining vestiges of Arthur’s honour to the four winds. With sugar-fuelled enthusiasm, and vigour.

*

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, not getting paid.


End file.
